Star Trek Horizons: The Zardanian Incident
by Dragon14
Summary: Episode Twelve posted. Captain Dent begins his daring plan to destroy the massive Zardanian shipyard. Read and review or I will kick a kitten!
1. Episode One

**Star Trek: Horizons**

**The Zardanian Incident**

"Sir, the USS _Spector _is signalling that they are ready for transport."

"Thank you Ensign. And thanks for the ride. I know it was a little out of your way."

"No problem, sir. It was actually an honour to meet you."

Alexander Dent gave a pained smile as he rose from his seat, heading for the transport pad located in the back of the Runabout's cockpit. The Ensign took the opportunity to lean forward in his seat and gaze out the window, staring out at the three starships looming above them. He breathed a quite sigh of awe.

"Viewscreens don't do them justice, do they Ensign?"

"No sir, Commander. Not one bit. And sir...it really was an-"

Dent tapped his comm badge, cutting the Ensign off, "Ready for transport, _Spector_."

The Ensign's face dissolved into a blue field of light, replaced with the pristine transporter room of the USS _Spector._ A Vulcan officer stepped forward and nodded to the Commander. The ship gave a little sway under their feet as the warp engines were engaged.

"Commander Dent, welcome aboard. I am Lieutenant Commander Venax, acting tactical officer."

Dent smiled as he stepped off the pad. "Hello, Lieutenant Commander. I'm your acting First Officer for the next little while."

"Indeed," the Vulcan said dryly, "if you would follow me the Captain is waiting for you in his ready room. He will debrief you there."

Dent followed the Vulcan into the corridor, nodding to the transporter chief as they left.

"I've not met many Vulcan tactical officers in Starfleet, Venax."

"Our previous tactical officer was promoted to the USS _Grissom_. They have not selected a replacement as of yet."

"What were you in previous to this? You look very familiar," Dent knew he had seen the woman before but could not place her. She did not have the standard appearance of most Vulcans he knew, the identical haircut their most prominent feature besides the ears. Venax's appearance was less severe, her hair tied back as per regulations but obviously quite long. She was quite tall and obviously fit, but her stride was not as mechanical as was the norm for her race.

"I was in Security, then recently promoted to Gunnery officer. You may remember me from the Academy. I was a year behind you."

Dent snapped his fingers as they waited for a turbolift, "That's it! I sparred with you once or twice didn't I, during training?"

"Correct."

"Yes. I remember now. My classmates would say, 'What are you doing, sparring with a Vulcan?' but I needed the experience. Had to have some martial arts guidance with someone obviously superior, you know? Stronger and faster...all of that."

"Vulcans are indeed stronger than humans," Venax replied as she entered the lift, indicating the Bridge for the destination, "you handled yourself well as I recall."

"Not many Vulcans would train with humans, unfortunately. A shame. The restraint showed by your race is remarkable when sparring. You can learn quite a lot. I certainly did anyway. I did not recognize you at first and I apologize for that. Your hair was shorter than."

"It is still regulation."

"I imagine it would be," Dent said laughing a little as the doors hissed open.

"I should warn you, Commander. The Captain does not like...talkers."

"Excuse me?"

"Captain Patterson runs what you would call a 'tight ship' and he does not tolerate excessive conversation not relating to your duties."

"Duly noted, Lieutenant Commander. I tend to ramble when I am nervous."

"Understood. I simply thought a warning would be helpful."

"Thanks."

Dent walked onto the Bridge and let the sounds wash over him. On the viewscreen the USS _Gorkon_ could be seen, along with another Akira escorting the Excelsior class ship to the Zardanian Frontier. The Bridge officers turned as one and looked over the Commander, some with a barely concealed awe and others with narrowed eyes.

_Oh no,_ Dent thought. _At least the Captain sent the Vulcan to escort me._

"The ready room is just off to the side Commander. Your station is directly behind the Captain's chair."

"Thanks again, Venax. Hello everyone," Dent said, raising his voice, "I am Commander Alexander Dent. I'll be the First Officer for the rest of this mission. I hope to met with all of you personally when time permits."

The Officers nodded as one and resumed their work. Dent had been given a brief overview of the crew and knew the majority had been working together for quite some time, operating effectively as a team. Perhaps too effectively, Starfleet felt. Such long-term staff had a tendency to become complacent and slightly careless even under the best Captain. Their previous First Officer had been given command of his own ship, and Dent was the only ranking officer without a ship that could be moved in quickly. Rather than promote within their own ranks, Starfleet sent Dent out as quickly as they could to shake things up a bit. It was well known that Captain Patterson was against the outside promotion.

Dent walked over to the Ready Room door and thumbed the comm panel, then stood there for a full minute, feeling foolish. _Letting everyone know who is in charge, Captain? Couldn't find a better way to do it then making me stand here like an idiot?_ Finally the doors whisked open and Dent entered.

The room was decorated with a variety of ancient swords and muskets, pictures displaying scenes from old wars of Earth's history. Dent even recognized some of them, not being much of a history scholar. It was pretty much every other Ready Room he had been in that belonged to these Heavy Cruiser class Captains. It took a certain type of character to command such heavily armed starships.

"Commander Dent, welcome. Come in and sit down."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Care for some coffee?"

"Yes, please."

"The replicator is right over there. I prefer blend 16, my own personal creation, with extra sugar and cream," the Captain took a sip from his cup and sighed, "and call me John while we are off the Bridge."

Dent walked over to the replicator and said "Coffee, black." Patterson looked at him sharply and then went back to reading a data pad. Dent knew he was being measured in this room but had little energy for games such as this.

"They told me you were your own man," Patterson said, not looking at the Commander.

"Who is 'they', sir?"

Patterson looked up, thrown off by the question, "Can't fault a man for wanting to know about his next First Officer can you, Alex?"

"Not at all, John."

"You've had quite the record so far."

_Here we go, _Dent thought.

Patterson lifted the data pad and made a show of reading it, as though it were the first time, "Let's see here. You are on track to become one of the youngest Captains in Starfleet history. I was a quite a bit older than you when I was made Commander and here you already a few years into it."

"Yes, sir."

"I heard it said they call you...what was it again?"

"The 'Winston Churchill' of Starfleet, I believe."

"Can't say I understand fully what that expression means, Alex."

_I bet,_ Dent thought. "It means that any other time I would probably have been drummed out of Starfleet or just served my time as a Lieutenant at most. Certain situations in the past have provided otherwise. I believe I was simply the right person at the right time. At least that's what my last Captain said."

"Before your ship was destroyed."

"Correct."

"That happens a lot?"

"Somewhat."

"You're seen as somewhat eccentric? Not really that personable or sociable?"

Dent simply shrugged. "Would you like me to get the Ship's Councillor in here, John?"

"Careful, Commander. I don't take kindly to a flippant attitude."

"My apologies, Captain."

"Now let's look at your record. It's quite a fascinating read. In just the last little while you were in the battle of Wolf 359 and were forced to take command from Engineering when you lost contact with your Bridge. Quite the commendation from your Captain on that mission, I must say. You served as an exchange officer aboard a Klingon K'tinga cruiser and they actually awarded you a medal after some trouble with a Romulan cruiser. What else do we have here.... you were at both major engagements with the Dominion at DS9 – the first disastrous attack and the later retaking of said station. You later took command of a contingent of ground forces at planet AR-558.... as a matter of fact, it looks like you've seen action at almost every major conflict since you graduated. Klingons, Cardassians, Dominion, Borg.... fascinating."

Dent said nothing. He had heard all of this before from other officers.

"Look, Commander. I know it was all the luck of the draw with your assignments. The odds of you managing to stay alive this long is something a Vulcan or android would have to figure out. But this assignment is purely diplomatic, and that is something you don't have a lot of experience with. Some of the crew here hold you in awe and others see you as reckless and a danger to the ship. I fall into that latter category. I need to know that you'll keep your finger off the trigger for as long as possible if the situation goes south. Starfleet feels you need the experience anyway, and you know your way around a battleship, so you can get the best of both worlds here."

"I'll do my best, Captain."

"Good. The diplomats on the _Gorkon_ will be handling the majority of the mission. We just have to ride shotgun and throw some weight around. The Zardanians are a touchy people and we have to move carefully. The Federation can ill afford another enemy what with this Dominion War and their Frontier is of strategic value."

"You can count on me, sir."

"To be honest, I doubt it. What we need is a diplomat, not a soldier. You might have been born in the wrong era, Commander, but we'll just have to muddle through nonetheless. Further briefing at 1600 hours. Get yourself settled in and we'll talk then. Dismissed."


	2. Episode Two

Chapter 2 

There were two kinds of First Officers. The first type were the ones whom Captains relied on and trusted implicitly. They essentially ran the ship and handled most of the day-to-day decisions. The second type were what Dent called the "Vice President" style of First Officer. The Captain still ran everything and the First Officer didn't have a whole lot to do. Unfortunately for Dent this is the category he found himself in. The crew of the _Spector _referred to the Captain for most of the decisions and essentially ignored the Commander. They knew and trusted Captain Peterson, and were in tune with his moods and disposition. They had unconsciously picked up on the undercurrent of hostility he directed at Dent and were acting on it – to save face and keep operations running smoothly, they carried out their business as though the Commander was not there. Dent tried to rectify this by scheduling meetings with the staff, but the Captain, who felt it would be a waste of time, cancelled this idea. Peterson made it clear the Dent would only be on board for a short time. After awhile, with nothing to really do and his suggestions mostly ignored, Dent grew bored.

The only exception to this was the Vulcan tactical officer, who easily adjusted to the new First Officer. Most Vulcans naturally distanced themselves from their emotional and illogical human counterparts, and Venax was no exception. She was the only Vulcan aboard the _Spector_ and while she preformed her duties without reproach, she was somewhat aloof compared to her fellow officers. Venax treated the new Commander with the same style and manner as she treated her previous First Officer. The actions of her crew confused the Vulcan somewhat, but she decided to make the best of the situation. Humans were, of course, illogical.

These thoughts were running through her mind as she headed for the Torpedo Launch, the small off-shift meeting place. There the officers and enlisted crew gathered to relax and discuss non-ship matters. Venax rarely engaged in the discussions, preferring her secluded table in the back where she could work in relative peace while at the same time enjoy observing the humans in their social environments.

Tonight was an especially busy night at the Launch, as the ship neared the Frontier and the crew were abuzz with the mission details. The Zardanians always made for good discussion among Starfleet, somewhat of a minor power but prone to aggressive and severe expansionist tendencies. They had been hampered because of their shared borders with the more technologically advanced Federation and other area powers. Debate had been growing on which side the Zardanian ruling council would ally with since the start of the Dominion War, as Zardanian territory was of strategic value and their mineral resources was abundant. So far, they had remained relatively neutral if not sympathetic to the Dominion.

Venax moved her way through the crowd, most of the crew making way knowing her dislike for physical contact. She grabbed her drink from the bar and headed towards her favourite table, normally kept empty out of respect for her but tonight the Launch was very busy. She noticed that as usual the crew kept apart from her little corner of the ship, and she shouldered her way past the last of the thick crowd. There she hesitated.

Commander Dent sat at her table, a small pile of data pads sitting next to him and a half finished drink in one hand. No one sat with him, and the crew kept his or her distance from him. Looking up briefly, he made eye contact with the Vulcan. Venax looked away and scanned the room, unsure of where to head next.

"This seat is empty, Lieutenant Commander," he said.

"I do not wish to disturb your work, Commander."

"No trouble. I'm just about to head to my quarters anyway. Just as soon as I finish my drink."

Venax moved over to the table, aware of the slight snickering going on behind her. She noticed that the Commander had been taking his time with his drink, not allowing the crew to make him feel uncomfortable. She sat down and sipped her tea, moving the seat around so her back would not be to the crowd. Dent picked through a data pad and silence covered their corner, the raucous noise of the bar taking up the space around them.

"So how long have you been aboard the _Spector, _Venax?"

"Almost one year, sir."

"You can call me Alex if you want," he replied, not looking up.

"How are you finding the role of First Officer thus far?"

Dent looked up, forgetting for a moment who he was taking to and thinking she was making a joke. Instead he found her staring at him, eyebrows raised. He thought for a moment he saw her corners slide into the beginning of a smile as he glanced up but that quickly vanished, if it had been there at all.

"It's been...peachy."

"You are finding it uncomfortable it seems."

"I'm just having a little trouble finding my role in the scheme of things, Lt. Commander."

"I see."

"It must be pretty noticeable for you to comment on it."

"I apologize if I made you more uncomfortable. I am not well versed in social mannerisms of humans despite my time with your kind."

Dent waved his hand dismissively, "If anything I should be thanking you. So far you are the only one willing to talk to me as a person. Half the crew feels the same hostility as the Captain is projecting and the other are uncomfortable because of my rank."

Venax said nothing, unsure of how to respond. Dent continued smiling.

"Sorry, Venax. I should not be dumping this on you. It is unprofessional of me as an officer. Let's change the subject, shall we?"

"Very well," Venax said, looking at the Commander expectantly.

Dent sat for a moment, and then laughed. He had trouble thinking of another subject. "So...you've been in Starfleet for about as long as I have. What made you want to join?"

"It seemed more interesting than the Vulcan Science Academy," she said flatly.

"Well, I have to agree with you there. It is a lot more hands-on. But you started as a security officer, correct? That's not the usual trade for a Vulcan. And your appearance is different than most of the Vulcans I have met."

Venax began to respond, used to these kinds of questions from humans. They were a curious people, despite the well-known Vulcan preference for privacy. Venax did keep her appearance more casual than the rest of her race and was a bit of an enigma even by her own people. She readied her usual vague response and figured she would leave for her quarters when the Commander cut her off.

"No need to respond, Venax. I know Vulcans like their privacy and are uncomfortable with talking about themselves. I apologize. This conversation hasn't been the best one has it?" he asked, laughing a little, "My social mannerisms are rusty as well, I guess. I'll just gather up my things and let you finish your drink in peace."

Venax shifted a little, as Dent gathered up his work and empty glass. He was the first human to acknowledge the Vulcan need for privacy and she was slightly taken aback. He was surprising for a human, she thought. She glanced down and noticed one of the data pads.

"You were studying the technical schematics for the Zardanian Expansionist Fleet," she observed. Outlined on the pad was a summarization of the more common Zardanian military ship.

"Yes. Just boning up a little in case the Zardanians have some surprises in store for us at the meeting."

"Do you believe they have ulterior motives?" she asked with genuine interest. Everyone on board the _Spector_ felt as the Captain did – the Zardanians, being inferior in technology to the Federation would join their side and the meeting was just a formality. Her observations from the crew's conversations indicated the diplomats on board the _Gorkon_ and the _Spector's_ sister ship, the USS _Phantom_, shared this opinion.

Dent leaned forward in his chair, warming up to the subject and glad to share his thoughts with someone, "From what I understand of the Zardanians they like to lead by example. They are a brash and bold people that prefer to act first and think later. They have little use for bureaucracy or diplomacy and wouldn't even have a ambassadorial staff if not for the other powers in the region."

"Agreed."

"I can't think of a better way to get the Dominion's attention than to strike at the Federation envoy sent to map out an alliance with them. We've known for years they were getting annoyed with our border with them – it's hampering their territorial expansion but they simply do not have the military power to do anything about it. Nor do they have the inherent diplomatic capacity."

"They are similar to the Cardassians in this respect. They are regulated to a minor power in the Galaxy when they see themselves as superior. They are an extremely emotional species. They must view the sudden rise of Cardassia with envy."

"Exactly right. In their frame of mind, the best way to get Dominion attention is to strike at the Federation."

"But the Dominion has been experiencing some heavy losses in the war of late and have never shown any interest in Zardanian territory. Why would they want to ally themselves with them?"

"Maybe they do and maybe they don't. Right now the Federation can't afford to open another front, even if it is with a minor military power. Chances are if the Zardanian's were aggressive enough, the Federation would submit to their demands just to keep the peace. Especially if it meant the Dominion were about to have free range of their space. And both sides could use their resources right about now."

"It is an excellent situation for the Zardanian Colonial Empire."

"And look here," Dent dug through and pulled out another pad, showing an overview of the shared border, "the Zardanians constructed a series of listening posts along their side of the border the last few months. Starfleet intelligence thinks they are also heavily armed."

"The Zardanians stated these were only to facilitate communications along their space. Recent subspace interference was disrupting their ship-to-ship exchanges."

"Then why only build them on the _Federation_ border? They haven't built any arrays elsewhere. And why have we noticed a drop in traffic along this same sector?"

Venax paused and looked at the map, then said, "Because this allows them to move their fleet elsewhere while monitoring our activity."

"The only place to move their fleet would be closer to the Dominion side – perhaps to support their war effort after these 'negotiations'."

"It is quite...logical."

"Yes, but it is also just a theory. However I like to be prepared before going into a situation. I brought some of this up to the Captain and he dismissed it so I decided to do a little research for myself. I've never encountered a Zardanian vessel so some study was needed," Dent reached for a previous pad and turned it towards the Vulcan. It was the schematic of the Zardanian military cruiser. Venax recognized the familiar shape of the ship, having patrolled here in her previous station. Zardanian ships were shaped like a **T **and Dent was indicating one of the nacelles; built into the underside of the wings of the ship, "See here? A torpedo strike, properly aimed, would completely destroy their impulse drive. The still haven't compensated for shield disruption from the impulse manifold and their defences are weakest in this spot."

Venax reached out and indicated a region just past the nose of the ship, "The also have a major power node in this area. A brief phaser burst would momentarily disrupt their ship's power."

Dent smile grew tremendously at this comment.

"I've done some research as well the past few days. I reached the same conclusions as you have when we were assigned this mission but the Captain dismissed them. As is his prerogative."

"As long as some of us are ready, Lieutenant Commander, we should be fine."

Venax sat back in her chair and asked, "Would you care for another drink, Commander?"


	3. Episode Three

Chapter Three 

Chief Engineer Jeffery Lambs stood in the turbolift, tapping his foot as the lift slowed to pick up another passenger. The _Spector_ would arrive at the rendezvous point within a short while and he was due back in Engineering. This was going to be a busy day for the Chief and he was impatient to start the morning. The lift doors finally opened and Commander Dent entered. _Oh great_, Lambs thought.

"Morning, Mr. Lambs," Dent said, "Headed for the bridge?"

"Aye, sir."

The two continued in silence for a while, the Chief smirking at the Commander. After a moment he said, "I heard you and Lt. Commander Venax hit it off last night."

"The Lt. Commander had some interesting insights into the Zardanian situation."

"I don't recall her ever sitting and chatting one-on-one with someone at the Launch."

"What's your point, Chief?"

"Just an observation," he said, his smirk growing, "She is not like other Vulcans, eh?"

"Probably from being raised in the Tanerous sector. Her father was a archaeologist with the Vulcan Science Academy but she spent little time on Vulcan itself."

Lambs blinked for a moment, "I served with her for over a year and I didn't know that."

"It's amazing what you find out when you talk _to_ someone instead of behind their back, Chief," Dent said, staring at the man. The Commander looked down and noticed the data pad in the Chief's hand.

"We've been having some trouble with out warp injection system. Just an update for the Captain before I start my shift," Lambs said, holding up the pad.

Commander Dent continued to stare at the Chief for a long moment, beginning to fume with subtle anger. On any other ship such a problem would have been within the jurisdiction of the First Officer, yet here the Chief Engineer was taking it directly to Captain Peterson and seeming to almost gloat about going over the Commander's head. Plus there was the thinly veiled implication about the Tactical Officer.

"The previous Commander...his name was Briggs wasn't it?"

"Aye sir."

"Not very hands on, was he?"

"Oh, no sir. A capable officer."

"So you would take that information to him or the Captain when he was aboard?"

Lambs suddenly realized the peril he was in. There was no good answer to the question. He looked at the display to see the location of the turbolift. Dent then ordered the lift to halt and then crossed his arms, eyes raised expectantly for an answer.

"I would take it to...the Commander."

"So why aren't you doing that now?"

Lambs grew quiet, then rolled his eyes and said, "Look, Dent...the Captain said you wouldn't be here long so just bring it to him. You know, go above you with...whatever is needed."

"Was that just you personally or your entire staff?"

"Ummm....the staff...actually."

"It seems, Mr. Lambs, you are in sorry need for instruction in the chain of command. When this mission is over I'll see that you get it, or have you simply forgotten my rank?"

"No."

"'No' what?"

"No, _sir._"

"Good. Computer, resume turbolift. Give me that pad, Mr. Lambs. I'll see that the Captain gets it."

Lambs handed it over, and then said as the doors opened onto the Bridge, "I do understand, _sir, _that after this mission is over you'll be leaving us. Isn't that true?"

"From what I have seen so far that won't be soon enough," Dent replied, stepping off the lift. Behind him the doors closed, but not before he good hear the engineer grumble a curse under his breath. Dent walked over to the Captain, nodding to Venax and ignoring the quick mocking glances from the rest of the crew.

"Mr. Lambs wanted you to review this, Captain."

"You're running errands for him now, Commander?" the Captain asked sarcastically.

"No, sir. I instructed him in his proper place in the chain of command. Such information appears to be lacking with the rest of the crew, you included. Perhaps you would care to attend the information session."

Peterson's face turned red, and the rest of the crew grew silent around them. "That's a hell of an attitude you got there, _Commander_. You're bordering on insubordination."

"Well, you run one hell of a ship, _Captain_. Maybe you would like to throw me in the brig? I'd love to see you defend your position before a Starbase tribunal. Ignoring my opinions, superseding my orders, discarding Starfleet rank regulations and protocols, informing your staff to bypass me with whatever requests or information they may have."

"Sir," the helmsman interjected, "we've arrived at the rendezvous point."

"We will talk about this later, Commander Dent."

"Yes, Captain Peterson, we will," Dent replied, stepping over to his station. He challenged the rest of the crew with a warning glance and activated his station.

The three Federation ships dropped out of warp and cruised towards a massive gas giant. Ahead three Zardanian ships waited, a large cruiser flanked by two smaller warships. The _Gorkon_ drew directly in front of the larger Zardanian cruiser and stopped, the Akira's forming a standard formation on either side.

"Recommend we go to Yellow Alert, Captain," Dent stated.

"Negative, Commander. Status, Venax?"

"The lead ship is the _Empress of Zardan_, flagship of the Zardanian Expansionist Fleet. Their shields and weapons are down but they are directing an intensive scanning beam at the fleet."

"Any other ships in the area?"

"Negative, sir."

"That gas giant," Dent said, checking his console, "has a severe magnetic field. That would be a good place to hide a squadron of vessels."

Peterson began to reprimand the Commander when he breathed deeply, thinking it over. "I doubt it. The atmospheric pressure would be too great for their ships. You're being a little paranoid."

"Sir," Venax said, "they could place a few ships just beneath the upper atmosphere. Our sensors cannot penetrate that particular planet too deeply and this does seem like an unusual place for a meeting."

"Nothing we can really do about it now, Lt. Commander. Let's just keep our eyes and ears open and hope for the best. Ensign Rodriguez, anything on communications?

"No, sir. Comm channels are quiet."

"They are making us wait. All right, everyone get comfortable for the next little while. This is a job for the diplomats anyway."

Dent walked over to Venax and said quietly, "Lt. Commander, what is the status of the Structural Integrity Field?"

Venax looked at the Commander a moment and then replied, "It is operating within normal parameters, sir."

"Really? Because I though it was running a little odd this morning. I found on my last ship that if we ran a variance in the higher EM field through it that would balance it out on occasion."

"The only thing that would do sir is disrupt any..." she paused and then nodded, "...it would disrupt any transporters beams directed at the ship."

"And it wouldn't show up on any scans unless they were actually looking for it. Lucky for us no one should be beaming anything aboard."

"Yes sir."

"Get to work on that quickly, Lt. Commander. If engineering sees that commands go through on my console they'll inform the Captain and he'll cancel it. We don't have time for that. I've got a bad feeling about this right from the start and that scanning beam made it worse. The only reason for it would be to gain some kind of beam in coordinate."

"Captain," Ensign Rodriguez said, "comm channel is livening up. The Zardanians are hailing the _Gorkon_ on an open frequency."

"Let's hear it. Put it on the speaker."

"_Greetings to our Federation friends and allies. This is Ambassador G'quell Mo'quet of the Zardanian Colonial Empire..."_

"'Empire,'" one of the officers said, and laughed. A few others followed suit.

"..._We welcome you to our space. We are looking forward to meeting with our counterparts on board your glorious USS Gorkon. We await transport coordinates so these formalities may end and we can celebrate out newly forged alliance."_

"That's unlike any Zardanian I know," Dent said, "Isn't the protocol for the diplomats to met on board the _Empress_?"

"I guess they changed their mind. They must want to see what a real starship is like," the Captain replied, followed by more quiet laughter from the bridge crew.

"Sir, the _Gorkon_ is sending over transporter coordinates."

"The Empress is powering their transporters."

"I think I'll go to my ready room," Peterson said, standing up, "this might be over quicker than expected.

"Sir," Venax said sharply, "reading multiple transporter beams, both at the _Gorkon,_ _Phantom _and us."

"What? How?"

"Those scanning beams must have been to gather coordinate information," Dent said, "Shields! Raise shields!"

"Reading multiple explosions on the Federations ships," Venax said flatly, "Transporter beam on us was disrupted by our SIF. The _Empress_ is firing a torpedo. They've targeted the bridge."

On the monitor a flash of light could be made out in the front of the _Empress_, a ball of energy streaking towards the _Spector_. To the side, small green explosions could be seen throughout the _Gorkon_ and _Phantom _as the transported charges were activated.

Captain Peterson's world became one of fire and debris as the torpedo impacted the bridge.


	4. Episode Four

Chapter 3 

Chief Engineer Jeffery Lambs entered his engineering section, still grumbling under his breath about his conversation with the Commander on the turbolift. He slapped a data pad into the chest of one of his Ensigns, telling the young man to get to work on the starboard power coupling. His staff knew to avoid him when his mood turned sour, letting him slump into his station and cross his arms angrily, looking over the ships display without really seeing them. He breathed heavily through his mouth, trying to calm down.

"Maybe the good Commander won't be with us very long," he said to himself. This thought gave him some comfort, and he smiled slightly just as he was thrown to the floor, the _Spector_ suddenly lurching in space like a drunken sailor. Alarms burst all around the Engineer. His smile became a grimace as his shoulder took the brunt of the fall.

"Report!" he yelled to a Lieutenant, finding his feet.

"The Zardanian's have fired on us! Direct hit to the Bridge!"

"Shields?"

"Shields were being raised just as they fired. They took some of the impact but the Bridge..."

"Hail our other starships...let them know about..."

"Sir, they are under attack as well," the Lieutenant said, working her console, "sensors detected multiple transporter beams to the _Gorkon_ and _Phantom_. Massive explosions and..." she paused a moment, her brow furrowing in anxiety.

"What? Report Lieutenant!"

"Sensors are reading massive amounts of Baryon radiation throughout those ships," she pulled up a sensor visual of the other Federation starships. Outside, the _Gorkon _and _Phantom_ drifted, explosions ripping along their hulls, green energy radiating outwards into space.

"Baryon radiation?" an Ensign asked as the ships again rocked to and fro, "but that destroys organic material."

"They are killing the crews and saving the ships for later," Lambs concluded. The ships again lurched under them.

"The flagship and her escort are continuing to fire on our port nacelle. Shields are weakening," the ship took another series of strikes, "shield collapsed. We have to take the Warp Drive off-line or we'll lose the nacelle."

"Then we're dead in the water. Transfer emergency power to the Shields and shut down the Drive," Lambs tabbed a console control, "Engineering to Bridge! Bridge, does anyone read me? Captain Patterson, can you respond?"

"Sir!" the Ensign yelled, pointing at her console, "Six more Zardanian cruisers are emerging from the gas giant and are headed this way."

"We're finished," Lambs thought to himself.

Bridge 

Alexander Dent struggled to consciousness, alarms screaming around him coupled with the distinctive hum of forcefields. He dragged himself erect, holding onto his ruined console station. His uniform felt warm and wet.

The Bridge was smashed beyond repair. Above him the ceiling was missing, offering a terrible expanse of outside. The Zardanian flagship continued to fire on the _Spector_, while the Federation vessels slowly drifted in space, alight with red and green flame. He brushed at the front of his uniform, his hand coming away slick and red. Looking down he realized he was covered in blood and gore. He staggered backwards, his legs not yet ready to hold his weight, and slumped into chair. Ahead he could see the flickering energy of the emergency forcefields, and on the other side the ruined remains of Captain Patterson and the rest of the Bridge crew. At least, those that had not been blasted out into open space. Dent checked himself for injuries, shocked to find himself relatively uninjured except for a terrible gash across his forehead. The blood and other unmentionables on his uniform was not his, but that of Captain Patterson. Dent shivered involuntarily at the realization and felt like throwing up. Nearby he heard a gently groan and saw Lt. Commander Venax rising up from the floor, using her console as a brace. Dent stumbled over and helped the Vulcan to her feet.

"How badly are you hurt?" he asked.

"I am fine, Commander," the Vulcan said, breathing deeply, "I just need a moment to collect myself."

The comm channels on their communicators chirped to life, "Engineering to Bridge! Bridge, does anyone read me? Captain Patterson, can you respond?"

Dent tapped his badge and replied, "Bridge here, Engineering."

"Is everything all right up there? We're having troubles getting sensor readings and the turbolifts are out."

Venax looked around and found a working computer station, "I should be able to adjust the internal sensors from here."

"The Bridge is destroyed, Engineering. What's the ship's status?"

"Apart from the Bridge we took damage to one of our nacelles. We had to shut down Warp power for a moment but that will be back online in no time. The Zardanians are continuing to fire and reinforcements are arriving. Six more vessels will be in weapons range in less than a minute."

"Transport Venax and myself to the Battle Bridge, Mr. Lambs. There are a few wounded as well...transport them directly to Sick Bay. Have the auxiliary Bridge staff standing by as well."

"Aye sir. What about Captain Patterson? Has he been injured?"

"The Captain..." Dent began, looking at the mess on the deck floor, "I'm assuming command of the ship for now."

"Commander," Venax said, "adjustments to the internal sensors are complete. They'll be able to transport immediately. You should go to Sick Bay and have that head injury looked at as well."

"No time, Lt. Commander," Dent said, wiping away at the blood covering his eyes and shrugging off his uniform jacket. He didn't need the crew to see their Captain splattered all over the Commander. The tingle of the transporter beam began to encompass him. Within moments, the auxiliary Battle Bridge surrounded him. "Venax, take the weapons console. Computer, transfer command control to Battle Bridge, authorization Commander Alex Dent."

"Authorization acknowledged. Command codes transferred to auxiliary command, Commander Dent."

"Tactical display on."

The viewscreen sprang to life, showing the Zardanian escorts and the large flagship. Six more cruisers were moving to their location, along with the drifting Federation vessels. The ship shuddered under their feet.

"The Zardanians are continuing to fire on the warp nacelle," Venax said. At her side the turbolift doors opened and Starfleet officers ran onto the Bridge, quickly taking their stations.

"Open a channel, Venax. Make it all frequencies."

"Channels open, sir."

"This is Ensign John Smith calling the Zardanian fleet. Cease fire! I repeat, cease fire!" Dent's voice took on a panicky edge, "We wish to discuss terms of surrender."

"Sir," one of the Lieutenants asked in shock, "are we surrendering the _Spector_?"

"I didn't say whose surrender, Lieutenant," Dent said firmly. Overhead the comm channel cracked to life.

"USS _Spector_, this is High Admiral Gulum M'rkess of the Zardanian Expansionist Fleet. Lower your shields and disarm your weapons. Prepare to be boarded."

"We can't!" Dent replied, practically yelling in terror. The officers looked at him with unsure eyes, "Your attack slaughtered our entire senior staff. The command codes for the ship have been locked out. We'll have to physically cut the power to our shields. You have to give us a few minutes. Please!"

"You have three minutes. If you do not lower your shields we will kill you and your remaining crew. So says the Zardanian Empire."

"Whatever," Dent said, hitting the mute button, "Venax, status of the other Federation vessels."

"Baryon radiation has completely encompassed the ships, Commander. No life signs to report."

A collective cry of dismay went around the Bridge. The comm officer began to weep. Dent nodded gravely then turned back to the viewscreen, studying the _Gorkon_. "Venax, how good of a shot are you?

"Venax can split the eye of a needle with the ship's phasers, sir," the Helm officer said proudly.

"Good to hear that, Mister... Boone, isn't it?" Dent thought for a moment longer than said, "The only reason the Zardanians would cripple those ships like that is so they could drag them back to their home world and strip them down. I'm not about to let them have their little prize. Venax, manually target the _Gorkon's_ dorsal Warp ejection coupling with a quantum torpedo and prepare to fire on my mark. Mr. Haro," he ordered, gesturing to the Bolian at the science station, "ready another torpedo for transport. Target the engineering section as near to the _Phantom's_ Warp Core as you can get it."

"Sir," Haro said, "if I understand you correctly, that will cause a warp explosion on both ships. The explosion will be...massive. You're talking about destroying two Federation starships."

"Exactly right, Mr. Haro. If I can't save those ships than the Zardanians sure as hell aren't getting them, and right now we're a little outnumbered. Bridge to Engineering."

"Lambs here, sir."

"I need Warp power and I need it now."

"We're just about ready to reactivate the Core, sir."

"Good. Helm, prepare for the Picard Manoeuvre."

"Sir?"

"We need a cold start of the Warp core. I need to jump this ship out of range and I don't want the Zardanians to catch wind to what we are about to do. If we power up the nacelles it'll be pretty clear we're making a run for it."

"I've never done that particular manoeuvre before, sir."

"First time's the charm, Lieutenant. Plot an ejection point just inside the magnetic pole of that gas giant. That'll mask us to any Zardanian sensors. As soon as that torpedo leaves the launch bay I want us at Warp. If everything goes right, it should look like we were destroyed in the explosion, and we may even take a few of those conniving Zardanian bastards with us."

"Gulum M'rkess to Federation vessel. Your time is up."

"Your right about that, Zardanian," Dent said, not bothering to activate the comm channel as he took his sea, "Everyone hold on. Haro, energize. Venax, fire the torpedo. Helm, activate warp engines."

Outside, the _Spector_ unleashed a torpedo, speeding it towards the _Gorkon's_ underbelly just as the six enemy cruisers surrounded her. Deep within the _Phantom_, a blue glow formed into the shape of another active torpedo and detonated, shattering the Warp Core's casing and unleashing the energy within. Both ships, stripped of their ability to harness the anti-matter of their cores and without any crew to assist them, exploded into still-borne stars. Nearby, the Spector vanished just as the wave of energy touched her hull, reappearing in an instant above the gas giant, audience to the terrible detonation of twin starships. The Bridge's viewscreen adjusted to light of the discharge, the crew watching as the small Zardanian fleet were virtually blasted to pieces, their shields unable to compensate for the unmatched energies of the dying starships.

"The Zardanian flasgship and her escorts have been destroyed, sir. No survivors."

Dent sat a moment, watching the glow fade away, leaving no sign of debris or remains of its passing. "Set a course for Federation space, Helm. Best speed possible."


	5. Episode Five

Chapter 5 Zardanian Fleet Command

High Admiral N'Gar T'Liu entered the command dome, immediately heading for the large table located in the centre of the expansive room surrounded by high-ranking officials. All stood laughing and drinking, their voices echoing throughout the chamber. T'Liu swallowed hard, wiping the moisture around her eyes that collected there when the lizard-like Zardanians grew stressed. T'Liu brought news that she would rather a subordinate deliver, but T'Gar Ana'Wor ordered T'Liu to bring him the report. This was, after all, her assignment. T'Liu stepped up to Ana'Wor and saluted her superior.

"Supreme Fleet Commander Ana'Wor, I bring news from the diplomatic envoy."

"Ah, High Admiral T'Liu, I have been expecting you. We all have been. Our 'diplomacy' with the Federation has been the talk of the hour. Please, inform us how your assignment carried out."

"I remind the Fleet Commander that I was against this turn of events with the Federation and stressed my reluctance with this assignment."

"Your personal feelings are well known, High Admiral. However, you had your orders. I trust your counterpart on board the _Empress of Zardan_, High Admiral Gulum M'rkess was able to complete his mission? When can we expect the Starfleet vessels delivered to the Markala VII Shipyards?"

T'Liu swallowed and said, "High Admiral Gulum M'rkess is dead, sir."

Ana'Wor blinked slowly. He placed his drink down and said simply, "What?"

"High Admiral Gulum M'rkess, Ambassador G'quell Mo'quet..."

"How can this be?" Ana'Wor shouted.

"Something happened at the rendezvous point. At this time we are unsure exactly what that is, but it appears that two of the Starfleet vessels suffered a Warp Core detonation. Our fleet was destroyed in the resulting massive explosion."

_"All of them?"_

"Yes sir."

Ana'Wor lashed his arm out, sending his drink and plates of food crashing to the floor. The brown scales on his face flushed deep crimson, his eyes narrowing dangerously to little more than slits.

"The flagship of our fleet destroyed? This should have been a simple mission, Admiral!"

"Preliminary evidence indicates that one of the Federation vessels anticipated our move with the transported Baryon charges and was able to disrupt the beams. The ship was then damaged during a brief firefight, but how badly we cannot say. Somehow it managed to destroy the remaining Starfleet vessels and escape. At first our scout ships thought is was destroyed as well but they have detected a faint warp trail leading away from the system, back to Federation space."

"Then order our fleet to overtake that ship and annihilate it!"

"They...lost the trail, sir. The Federation ship somehow masked their warp trail. We cannot find them."

Ana'Wor stared at T'Liu for a long moment, breathing deeply. A sliver of yellow spittle ran out of his mouth and dripped down his uniform. "What do you suggest now, High Admiral?" he hissed.

"Sir, the Federation vessel was last seen headed for their border. They were moving at a slow rate of speed so we suspect their warp nacelles were damaged in the firefight or the explosion. I have mobilized the border fleets and our Listening Posts are now active."

"Their weapons are ready?"

"Yes sir. Assault phasers and plasma torpedoes are fully installed and ready. The Federation vessel will not be able to get by them. Additionally, we've deployed communication dampeners as well. They will be unable to transmit a signal to their superiors. The only way they can get back to friendly space is through Dominion held space and that would be suicide."

"What does our intelligence know about that ship?"

"The last report from the _Empress_ indicated that it was the USS _Spector_ that had some sort of field in place that disrupted the targeting beams. A Captain Patterson commands it. Our profile shows Patterson is a somewhat timid officer even by human standards and avoids conflict despite his promotion to an Akira class vessel. He normally is on escort duty. He is a typical Starfleet officer – a diplomat at heart. The actions so far are outside his normal operations but we suspect it was desperation on his part. We predict he will head straight for friendly space, not being a particularly well-versed combat officer. We've had conflicting reports that the senior staff of the Spector were killed in the attack but that has not been verified."

"Find that ship, High Admiral. For your lack of preparation in this matter I demote you to Admiral effective immediately. Corresponding reports will be followed through as soon as I return to Fleet Command. This should have been prepared for, T'Liu. You made us look foolish in the eyes of our enemies."

"The Federation were not our enemies until you attack them, sir."

Ana'Wor held a clawed hand up, "Watch your tongues, T'Liu. You tread dangerous ground."

"I apologize, sir."

"Admiral T'Liu, you are to take command of the border patrols in that sector and find that Federation vessel and annihilate it. Use whatever resources you deem necessary but _find that ship._ One damaged ship should not be that hard to locate."

"I shall leave at once, sir."

**USS _Spector_ – Sick Bay**

Commander Dent sat upright on the sick bay bed, his head held steady as the doctor ran a dermal regenerator over his injury. The throbbing in his head was finally starting to dissipate, something he viewed with a great deal of quiet gratitude.

"That should just about do it, Commander," Doctor Samantha Reeves said, putting down the device and examining her handiwork.

"Thank you, Doctor," he said, putting on a new uniform jacket, "how are the injuries?"

"Nothing too major. Most of the wounded were on the upper decks as you can imagine."

Dent nodded, "How is the crew holding up?"

"They were all quite close to the Captain, sir. The loss of so many of the senior staff hit them quite hard."

"I can imagine. The Zardanians were never trustworthy but this..." he shook his head, "we'll schedule a memorial service as soon as we make a friendly port. For now we best get clear of their territory as soon as possible. At least, if we can."

"Understandable, sir."

"Keep me apprised Doctor," Dent asked, just as the doors behind him opened. Venax, Chief Engineer Lambs and Acting Science Officer Haro entered Sick Bay. Dent looked them over and asked for their reports.

"The port nacelle took some damage," Lambs said, "the best speed we can manage is Warp 5. We'll have to stop the ship for us to make repairs on it if you want better."

"Not just yet."

"Zardanian sensors are inferior to our own, so I was able to mask our Warp signature. They shouldn't be able to follow us."

"But at Warp 5," Haro added, "it will take some time for us to reach the border."

"The Zardanians are already mobilizing their fleet, Commander," Venax said, "As Mr. Lambs said, their technology is inferior to our own. One-on-one their ships are no match for us, but we may face the entire Zardanian Border Patrol by the time we reach the perimeter."

"Not to mention those so-called 'Listening Posts' on the border," Dent said, "I'm betting this attack was well planned out and they'll be armed to the teeth."

Additionally," Haro said, "our long range scans indicate some kind of communications dampening field has been activated by those devices. We can't get a message out without giving away our location. Even then, it would be unlikely it would penetrate the fields."

"Then we need to find another way to get a message to Starfleet, Mr. Haro."

"Yes, sir. Jeffery Lambs and I were discussing it and I believe we have a solution. There is the JX105 Pulsar about a days travel from here. If we project a narrow band beam into the pulsar I believe we can 'bounce' a transmission into Federation space. With the correct calculations, we should be able to send a resonance beam to the Argus Array through subspace, and carry a message to Starfleet. The only way the Zardanians would detect it is if they actually crossed through the beam."

"Make it so, Mr. Haro."

"Sir, the only problem is that the Pulsar is deeper into Zardanian space."

Dent stood up and straightened his shoulders, smiling at the Bolian, "Well then, that should lessen the chances of the Border patrols finding us, eh? Get to work, Mr. Haro, and make us proud."


	6. Episode Six

**Chapter Six**

**Pulsar JX105**

"How are you feeling, Mr. Rodriguez?" Dent asked.

"Fine sir. Just glad to be back at the communications station. And sir, Mr. Lambs reports the Warp Drive is fully operational."

"Good news and I'm glad to have you back, Ensign."

Dent continued on his rounds of the Battle Bridge. It had been over an hour since they transmitted their message to Starfleet command, but there was no way to tell how long it would take for them to respond - if they could respond at all.

"The message could be lost in subspace noise, sir," Haro suggested, "or they may not even detect it. However, the Zardanians should not be able to detect us this close to the Pulsar."

"Understood, Science Officer," Dent replied, "let's give it a little more time, shall we?"

"Sir," Rodriguez said excitedly, "something is coming through the deflector array. It has the same resonance frequency as our message."

"Patch it through the communications equipment, Ensign. Put it on the main viewer if you can."

The viewscreen sprang to life, displaying the interior of an office at Starfleet command. Outside a background window the skyline of San Francisco could be seen. To the crew, it was a welcome sight although one that seemed very far away to them. Two female Admirals sat at a desk, one stone faced and another looking quite anxious. The anxious Admiral could be seen to breathe a sigh of relief and then quickly regained her composure.

"Admiral Nechayev," Dent said, nodding, "Admiral Dent." Behind the Commander the crew could be heard whispering 'Mother'. His shoulders straightened somewhat in discomfort.

"Alexander," Admiral Dent asked, "how are...how is your crew?"

"They are managing well, Admiral. They are a fine crew."

"I imagine they are, Commander," Nechayev said curtly, "Captain Patterson trained them well. We've just received your report. The actions of the Zardanians are deplorable."

"Yes sirs."

"We've dispatched an envoy but the Zardanian Fleet Command is warning all Federation vessels against crossing their border," Nechayev continued, "we sent the USS _Wayfarer_ and _Repulse_ to try to reach you but they were attacked by the 'Listening Posts' and barely managed to escape. It seems they are little more than weapons platforms, Commander, with enough individual firepower to destroy a small moon. You were wise to avoid them."

"They are also moving in a sizeable number of vessels, Commander" Admiral Dent added, "We've been monitoring communication traffic as best we can and it looks like you've churned up a hornet's nest of activity. You destroyed their flagship and it seems several high-ranking officials in their Empire were on board to watch the 'fall of the Federation' or some such nonsense. They are now out for blood."

"The problem is," Nechayev said, "the Zardanians could not have attacked at a worse time and they know it. They never presented a significant threat to us but we cannot afford another front this late in the Dominion War. We certainly can't send in the number of ships we would need to punch through their defences just to get you. Those ships are needed elsewhere."

"Understood, Admirals. What are your orders?"

Admiral Dent breathed deep and said, "Commander, this may seem unorthodox and you can refuse, but we discussed it and believe we can get some advantage from this situation. We can't have the Zardanians throw their military backing into the Dominion so we need to distract them. Right now the Founders are too concerned with us to be bothered with a minor power as the Zardanian Colonial Empire and at most they are accepting resources and making vague promises for the future.

"Starfleet Intelligence has reported the bulk of the Zardanian fleet are massing on the far side of their border, intent on attacking some other race, such as the Bynars or Denobulans to further their respect in the eyes of the Dominion. We can't have that."

Nechayev leaned forward, "Effective immediately, Commander, you are hereby given the field promotion of Captain. The _Spector_ is yours to command. You are to engage in guerrilla warfare with the Zardanian Empire and disrupt their communications, shipping lanes and combat effectiveness as best as you are able. We are transmitting all data on their empire, including confidential reports that we have that will assist you. Whatever assistance you need that we can provide will be made available to you."

The screen grew static filled, "The Pulsar's interference is growing too intense," Admiral Dent said, "you have the reports. And Captain...be careful." The Admiral smiled, a worried look in her eyes, "Come home safe."

"I will. I'll make sure everyone makes it home, Admirals."

The screen shut off. Ensign Rodriguez cleared his throat and said, "The Pulsar has rotated out of range of the communications array."

"Understood. Helm, lay in a course for the Masor Asteroid Field, maximum Warp. Venax, you and Mr. Haro get to work on those reports. Let me know what you have by 1600 hours.

"I guess it's time we go to war with the Zardanians."


	7. Episode Seven

Chapter 7

**Starfleet Command**

Admiral Horatio Nelson entered Alynna Nechayev's office, nodding to his fellow Admiral. He strode towards the large window, the centrepiece of the room, which provided a magnificent sight overlooking the San Francisco harbour. Nechayev continued with her work, ignoring the man and his mood for the time being. She was not one to be easily intimidated and it would take more than a fellow Admiral to accomplish such a feat.

"Starfleet Command turned down my request to assume command of the Zardanian situation," he finally said.

"I have the matter in hand, Admiral," Nechayev replied.

"You have your hands full with this Dominion business," he said coldly, "I tried to explain that."

"Admiral Dent and Admiral Ross are handling the majority of that," she said without looking up.

"I am more than capable of it, Admiral. With your support Starfleet will turn the reins over to me."

Nechayev put down her data pad and looked the man over, "You are hardly capable of remaining objective when it comes to Commander Dent, Horatio. Starfleet knows that."

"That man..." Horatio spat in anger, "that man _killed my son!_ Starfleet just keeps on promoting him like he's some damn wonder child or something. That should have been my boy as First Officer of the _Spector_."

_First of all he never would have made it to Commander, _Nechayev thought to herself_, and he'd be just as dead along with everyone else on that mission_. "I've heard this before and I've read the reports from Gulum XII, Horatio. What happened to your son was a tragedy but there is little blame you can place on Alexander Dent. He did his duty. You have a very large blind spot when it comes to your son."

"There is more to it than what was in those reports Alynna. I am sure of that."

Nechayev rolled her eyes in disgust, "They were written by your son's own men. There was no conspiracy afoot."

Admiral Nelson snorted and stepped away from the window, "Anyway, Starfleet has placed me as special consultant on this matter. I know the Zardanians better than anyone so whatever decisions you make run them through me first."

"Of course, Horatio. However, there isn't a whole lot for us to do. Dent is pretty much on his own in these circumstances. As mush as I believe in not leaving anyone behind, we simply cannot spare the resources needed to get that ship out of their territory without putting us into another full-scale war. "

"Understood. But keep me appraised, Alynna."

Nechayev nodded and resumed her work as Nelson prepared to leave the room. As he exited the door, Nechayev said to his back, "Admiral, as much as you dislike the Commander, Alex Dent is probably the best hope that ship has of making it home safe. From what I understand of the man, the Zardanians will be quick to want him out of their territory."

Nelson shot the woman a glowering look and left.

_Oh, there is one way to save that crew without provoking a war, _he thought. _It just takes time. And you're wrong about the Zardanians. They might not be quick to be rid of him. They just might be willing to make some sacrifices to _get_ him._

Nelson walked over to his aide and said, "Have the USS _Magellan_ made ready. Inform them we'll be heading for the Zardanian Frontier when she is properly prepared."

The aide blinked a moment and said, "Sir, the _Magellan_ is getting ready for the front line. Starfleet might not like having a Galaxy-class ship diverted for this type of mission."

"You have your orders, Commander. Carry them out. I'm an Admiral and I need that ship for my personal transport."

"Yes...yes, sir," the aide replied reluctantly.

USS Spector – Torpedo Launch (Mess Hall) 

Three crewmen sat huddled around their table, talking over their drinks in a conspiring fashion. The Launch was essentially deserted, the time being early in the day. All were excited over the latest orders, throwing the occasional anxious look at the stars that streaked by them, elongated by the impressive speeds in which they were carried. Soon the ship dropped out of warp and glided towards a large asteroid field.

"Now he's taking us into an actual asteroid field. He'll get us killed, I tell you," Crewman Leblanc said, irritated, "I'd hate to be at the Helm. First that Picard Manoeuvre, then the Pulsar and now this."

"Look at it this way Maureen, at least you people in Security will be busy when the Zardanians storm the ship," Crewman Morris said laughing.

"Laugh it up, Morris. You'll be busy enough fixing those repairs once we meet up with their cruisers."

"Ahhh...their ships are no match for the _Spector_."

"Yeah, one or two of them...try a whole fleet," Ensign Hansen said, "you guys heard our orders."

"One ships against the entire Zardanian Colonial Empire...it's suicide," Leblanc said glumly, "it's sure not what I signed on for."

"Well it shouldn't be the whole fleet," Morris said smiling, "just their Frontier border fleet."

"Always the optimist, huh Morris?"

"I try, Maureen. I try."

"I miss Captain Patterson," Hansen said.

"We all do, Han. But to be honest, I'm kind of glad Commander Dent is in charge of this mission," the others shot Morris a look and he quickly held up his hands, "Look, I'm not saying I'm glad what happed – far from it! But Captain Pat would have been in over his head with this Zardanian business, don't you think?"

"Captain Pat was a good man and a good Captain," Leblanc agreed, "and let's not forget there were two other Fed ships that got caught with their pants down. No one expected them Zardies to do what they did. Bastards."

"Except Commander Dent. He expected it."

"You mean _Captain_ Dent."

Hansen rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. How are things in Engineering anyway, Morris? Lambs didn't exactly take to the Commander from what I heard."

"Lambs was close to Captain Pat. His loss hit him really hard. Luckily we've been really busy down there so we haven't had time to really think about it. Say, you guys didn't answer my question about the Commander and this mission. Have you guys took the time to look over Dent's records yet?"

"Yes," Leblanc replied, "it's not wonder he was ready for their sneak attack. The Commander was seen every major engagement since he graduated – it's crazy. I heard Starfleet was thinking about giving him a year's time off but gave him this mission instead, thinking it would be a cake walk. They are seriously short of officers."

"The guy has more medals than most of this ship combined."

"He's a bad luck charm if you ask me. I heard that there aren't many ships that want him. He's some kind of pariah..."

"Are you speaking about our Acting Captain?" Venax asked from behind them. The three crewmen jumped out of their seats. None of them had heard the Lt. Commander approach.

"Yes, sir," Leblanc stammered.

"Is that any way to speak about a superior officer, crewman?"

"We're just trying to relieve some tension, sir."

The ship's intercom came to life just then, saving the crewmen from further reprimand, "Lt. Commander Venax report to the Bridge."

"On my way," she said, tapping her badge. Venax nodded to them then turned and left the room, her long hair way swinging back and forth as she gracefully walked through the doors.

"There goes a Vulcan unlike every other one on Vulcan," Leblanc said quietly as the doors closed behind the Tactical Officer. She made sure the officer was well out of earshot – a difficult thing to do when a Vulcan was concerned, "I just can't put my finger on why that is."

"It's the hair and the way she walks. She's not ramrod straight like others of her race but kind of stealthy, like a cat or something. And...is it me, or does it look like she's sometimes smirking?"

The others did not answer, lost in thought as they watched the ship manoeuvre through the asteroid field.


	8. Episode Eight

**Chapter 8**

**Bridge – Masor Asteroid Field **

"Good work, Helm," Captain Dent said, patting the Helm officer on the shoulder.

"Thank you sir," Lieutenant Aureli said, "those holodeck programs you recommended before we arrived helped greatly piloting through the field."

"Take a break, Lieutenant. I believe you're going to need it later on." Dent moved to the back of the bridge, joining Chief Engineer Lambs near a large monitor displaying the area around them.

"You were right about this field, Captain," Lambs said just as Venax entered the Bridge, nodding to the exiting Helm officer and making her way over to the men, "the heavy ore content will mask our presence quite effectively."

"Excellent. From what I read before this mission the Zardanians use this field as one of their supply areas because of its Thorium deposits. They should be sending along a mining ship at some point very soon."

"All ships in the Zardanian Empire fall into their Fleet military jurisdiction, even mining craft," Venax observed.

"I know."

"Isn't it a little dangerous for us to be here then, Captain?" Lambs questioned.

"No, Mr. Lambs. What we need is more recent and detailed information than what Starfleet sent us. What we need is a Zardanian database."

Lambs eyebrows shot up in surprise, "You're going to raid one of their ships?"

"Right again. Venax, ready a strike team. We'll be boarding the first available ship that comes along."

"Captain..." Lambs began.

Dent ignored the Engineer for the moment, "I'll give you the operational parameters of the mission within the hour. While I'm away you'll be in command, Lt. Commander."

"Sir? Am I to assume you'll be leading the strike team?"

"Correct, Venax."

"Captain, it is against Starfleet protocol for a Captain to lead such a team."

Lambs snorted, "That's a little hotshot even for you, isn't it _Captain?_"

Dent eyed both officers and breathed deep, letting it out slowly, "I've given this a great deal of thought. The crew has been through a lot and I'm going to be asking even more from them. Normally they would have time to adjust to a new officer but we no longer have that luxury. They have to know that whatever orders given them I'd be willing to do myself. The only way I can do that is by showing them. I said I'd get them home safe and if I have to drag them kicking and screaming through this mess I will. If I have to lead every mission myself then I will. I won't give up on them because of rumours and innuendo among the crew. I'm going aboard that Zardanian ship and I'm going to bring back the information we need to survive the next little while. With it we can access their communication lines and see their recent fleet movements. I'd say that is information vital to our mission, wouldn't you?"

Lambs looked down at his feet and then up again, "It's going to be dangerous, Captain. The Zardanians are deadly when up close. I'd almost prefer Klingons."

"Mr. Lambs is quite correct, Captain."

"All the more reason I need to lead this strike myself. The crew has to know that they can count on me," he said. Then he laughed mildly, adding, "Besides, it's not like I've never done this before."

"Very well, sir. I'll have my best men waiting for you in Transporter Room Two."

"Have Mr. Haro select someone from the Science team as well. Inform them of the mission and that we need a Zardanian database once we arrive."

"Aye sir."

Venax and Lambs moved into the turbolift, watching as Dent leaned over the console and began switching through the schematics of enemy mining craft. When the doors closed Lambs leaned over and asked, "What did he mean by having 'done this before'?"

"Are you familiar with Captain Dent's service record?"

"Just the highlights. I've been pretty busy."

"To summarize what he spoke of, while he was on an exchange program with the Klingon Empire he led a boarding party against a D'Deridex class starship. Because of his performance the Chancellor at the time deemed him suitable for a medal of honour."

Lambs rubbed his temple, shaking his head and grimacing, "A _Klingon_ medal of honour? My God, who _is_ this guy?" he asked incredulous.

"Computer, pause turbolift," Venax ordered. The tall Vulcan turned and faced the Engineer, her tone low and firm. "Mr. Lambs, you are going to have to set aside your animosity towards Commander Dent."

"Well, it's not quite that easy, Venax," Lambs said harshly.

"I realize the death of Captain Patterson and the other officers is difficult. I grieve for them as well. However, you must set your feelings aside for the moment..."

Lambs slammed his fist into the nearest wall, his voice rising in the small quarters, "I'm not a Vulcan, dammit! I'm human and we have emotions! We can't just shut them on and off like a bloody faucet whenever it is convenient, Lt. Commander," he stepped closer to the Vulcan, "I know you had your problems with the Captain, Venax. I know you were looking for a transfer..."

"Stop right there, Mr. Lambs," Venax said coolly.

"No, I won't stop there, Venax. I was close to the Captain. We all were! Closer than you would ever be because your kind is made from damned ice water. Captain Patterson was the best Captain I've ever served with and I'll not just toss his memory aside because of the situation."

"Captain Patterson failed in his duty, Mr. Lambs. He was an inferior commanding officer."

Lambs jaw dropped, his expression looking as if it were stricken. Venax continued, "If the Captain had listened to Commander Dent then he and the other members of the Bridge would still be alive. However, he decided to pursue a course of illogic that continues to elude me. He repeatedly neglected the advice of his First Officer and instructed those under him to ignore the Commander. Orders you yourself, the Chief Engineer of a starship, followed despite the fact that they were obviously outside the bounds of the regulations we are sworn to abide by."

"How dare you..."

"His dereliction of duty survives in you. Tell me, Mr. Lambs, are you angry with me or are you angry with the fact that you owe your life to Commander Dent?"

Lambs stared at the woman for a long moment, then turned away and looked at the floor. "I don't know," he quietly said, "all I know is I lost a close friend, Lt. Commander. A loss that should have been preventable. I was blinded...blinded by my own arrogance. Maybe we all were. To damn cocky to think we could have been wrong."

"A very human arrogance that continues to affect your judgement, Mr. Lambs. Right now that man on the Bridge requires our help. I apologize for speaking to you so harshly, especially about Captain Patterson, but the situation warrants it. It was Patterson's own conceit that is partially to blame for this. I had my problems with the man...I found his command skills lacking but ours is not the only ship that was attacked."

"Believe me, I know. I can still see those other ships burning in space when I close my eyes."

"Jeffery," Venax said, grabbing the Engineer's arm, "Alex Dent is the only hope this crew has of getting out of here safely. You must realize this."

Lambs nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"He must have our support. The crew can sense your unwillingness to follow his orders and your hostility towards him. They look up to you and follow your lead. Any pause or misstep at this stage could cost us further loss of life. We are truly alone out here. Starfleet or our allies cannot help us. The only way of making it home is by trusting that man. Trusting Commander Dent."

Lambs patted the Vulcan's hand, "I know, Venax. Deep down, I know. I guess I just had to have someone tell it to me."

"Very well. Computer, resume turbolift."

"I'll bet you wish you got that transfer after all, huh Venax?" Lambs asked.

"Perhaps, Mr. Lambs. However, the day is not over yet."


	9. Episode Nine

**Chapter Nine**

**Bridge **

The _Specto_r held its position in the asteroid field, coiled and ready to strike like a viper, a mouthful of venom and a belly full of hate.

"Lt. Commander, shuttlecrafts One and Two have returned. They report their cargo has been placed as per the Captain's orders."

"Very good, Mr. Rodriguez. Extend my thanks for a job well done."

"Lt. Commander," Haro cut in from his science station, "sensors report the Zardanian mining vessel is almost in position."

"According to its current trajectory it will be in targeting range within eight minutes," added Lt. Aureli from the Helm.

"Have you been working with the simulations, Lt. Aureli?" Venax asked.

"Yes, sir. The Captain programmed it himself."

"Very good. We'll need to jump to full impulse speed as soon as the Zardanian ship is in position and catch them by surprise. Once we emerge from the asteroid field I'll fire a torpedo at their aft impulse manifold which should cripple their drive section, including warp drive. We will then fire a short phaser burst into their forward hull. If we aim correctly, their main power should be disrupted for about two minutes. Mr. Haro, are they any signs of additional ships?"

"Nothing that I can tell, Lt. Commander. However, our sensor resolution is reduced by the field."

"Very well. Prudence is advised. This ship may be used for mining but it is still a military vessel and armed as such. Helm, manoeuvring thrusters at one third, bring us down to zero-three-one mark two-six-zero and plot your attack trajectory. Bridge to Transporter Room Two."

**Transporter Room Two**

Crewman Maureen Leblanc watched as Acting Captain Dent looked over his phaser rifle, making minor adjustments to the settings. She adjusted her battle harness and wiped a gloved hand across her brow. Feeling another's eyes on her, she looked over and flashed a nervous smile at Ensign Hansen. She jumped when the comm channel opened.

"Bridge to Transporter Room Two."

"Go ahead, Venax," Dent answered.

"The Zardanian ship will be in position in six minutes. Shuttlecrafts have returned and report a successful mission."

"Excellent work all around, Lt. Commander. Ensure we have a fixed transporter lock on the teams at all times as well as an open comm channel."

"Aye, sir."

"All right everyone," Dent said loudly, addressing the seven member team in front of him, assembled on the large transporter pad, "you have all read the reports but time for a summary. Phasers set on heavy stun. Mr. Kwalski, you have Ensign Hansen's back. You are to retrieve the Zardanian database as quickly as possible. The rest of us will keep the Zardanian security forces occupied. Do not, I repeat do not engage them in hand-to-hand combat unless absolutely necessary. They are fast and exceptionally strong, their claws can tear a human apart in seconds and they have no compunctions about using them. Also, they are highly unorthodox in their military methods so expect anything once they realize what we are doing. Your battle vests are equipped with personal force fields which should protect you from one or two blasts from their disruptors but don't rely on this for complete protection – they aren't infallible in combat situations. Extreme caution is the mandate here, people. Everyone that is beamed over is coming back unharmed, is that understood?

"Also, keep your goggles on. The Zardanians have poor eyesight in darkened areas so their ships interior will be _extremely_ well lit. Without our visual protection we'd be blinded in moments. Also, it's going to be hot...very hot. They are a lizard race and prefer extreme heat. Keep your rebreathers handy in case they try to gas us. Questions? No? Good. Bennett and Smith, you are Team One. Montoya and Garfield, Team Two. Leblanc, you have my back. Everyone on the pads."

The teams assembled, forming a circle with their weapons pointed outwards. Leblanc leaned over to the Captain and said, "Sir, Bennett is more experienced than I am. Maybe it would be better if he had your back."

"I need Bennett to ensure the turbolifts are secure, Leblanc. Venax has the utmost confidence in your abilities and I respect her opinion. You'll be fine. Just follow my lead."

"Sir," the transporter chief said, "we're about to engage the impulse drive. You might want to hold onto something. It's going to be a bit of a jolt."

Outside, the _Spector_ went from a dead stop to flying over several asteroids, speeding towards the unsuspecting mining craft. Emerging from the field, the ship blasted a torpedo into the aft section of the Zardanian vessel, impacting directly on their impulse drive and crippling it. Its course altered by the explosion, the nose bent upward and the ship began to spin, exactly as tactical officer had anticipated. As the forward section came into view, the Vulcan targeted the port side and let loose a volley of phaser strikes, reducing the main power coupling to molten slag.

"Energize," the Vulcan ordered.

**Zardanian Ship**

Crewman Leblanc was momentarily disorientated as she materialized on board the enemy vessel. The bright light and heat struck her full in the face, forcing her to take a deep breath, the hot air rushing into her lungs and her forehead immediately covering in a sheen of perspiration. Ahead she saw three Zardanians lower themselves to the floor, preparing to flee from the heavily armed squad, their eyes wide in surprise. She had forgotten their species were comfortable walking on all fours or fully erect. She fumbled with her weapon trying to lower her aim when a series of quick phaser blasts burst out from her left side, each shot finding its mark dead centre in the Zardanian crewmen chests. In the time it took her fellow security officers to react to their presence Dent had stunned the lizards unconscious.

"Team One," he shouted, "lock that turbolift tight. Use your phasers to weld it shut. Team Two, move into that forward hallway and secure it. Hansen, set up that transport inhibitor so we don't have any surprises beamed in. Leblanc, follow me."

Dent moved forward towards a door to his side, quickly looking over an inscription on the entrance. Stabbing at the console next to it, he opened the doorway and rolled in, firing his rifle. Two more surprised Zardanians fell to the floor. Dent straightened and moved about the room, rifle at the ready. Leblanc tried to keep up, eyes wide in awe and appreciation.

_That sure as hell ain't Captain Pat_, she thought in surprise. It was one thing to read about the man; it was quite another to see him in action.

"Hansen!" Dent yelled. "Report!"

Hansen and Kwalski ran into the room, Kwalski sweeping around with his weapon, Hanson holding onto his back with one hand. Dent nodded approvingly at their actions.

"Inhibitor is set up, Captain."

"Get to work on that console over there, Ensign. It should have everything we need." Disrupter blasts and phaser fire echoed out of the hallway. Dent signalled Leblanc to follow and they exited the room. Overhead the ships communication channel erupted.

"INTRUDER ALERT. DECK EIGHT SECTION TWELVE. SECURITY TEAMS RESPOND. INTRUDER ALERT. FIRE TEAMS REPORT TO DECK TWO SECTION THREE AND ENGINEERING SECTION."

Team Two signalled they had secured the hall from the initial security teams. Dent could hear the sound of the phasers switching off along with the hissing of cooling metal at the turbolift entrance and knew they had sealed it shut. Team One backed off slightly from the doors and found cover, their weapons sweeping the access point.

"Barring anything unforeseen," Dent said to Leblanc, "we have them bottlenecked quite nicely."

"_Spector_ to Captain Dent," Venax's voice said calmly over the comm channel.

"Go ahead."

"We've detected two more Zardanian cruisers headed this way in attack formation. They'll be in weapons range in ten minutes."

"Did this ship get a message out?"

"Negative sir. We would have detected it and are dampening any communications. These ships must have been patrolling and detected our attack."

"Surely the _Spector_ can handle two ships, Captain," Leblanc offered.

"We can't afford a firefight at this time, crewman," Dent replied, "we have no way to repair the ship from major damage. Don't worry, we've anticipated this. They just showed up sooner than expected. Strike Teams, prepare -"

Dent was cut off as one of the bulkheads exploded outwards, the hall filling with fire and debris. Dent and Leblanc were thrown like rag dolls by the concussive force, their personal shields sparking and flashing. Dent hit the floor hard and rolled over to a wall, his shield defense flashing out but protected him from the detonation. Leblanc landed close by, her shield still intact.

"I guess this is the 'unorthodox' methods you were talking about," she gasped.

Dent smiled grimly and raised to one knee, firing his weapon randomly into the smoke, hoping to drive back any advancing force that might be using it for cover. After a series of shots he rolled to the opposite side and fired again, hoping the security teams would not be able to pinpoint his position. Leblanc ducked under some larger debris, her smaller frame finding it ideal cover. She commenced to fire blindly as well. Behind them Team Two engaged a second security force.

"I can't get any targets," she yelled, looking at her rifles readout. The display was static filled.

"The explosion is somehow affecting our targeting sensors," Dent called back. He slapped his comm badge, "Team One, report!"

"We're ok, Captain. Just a little shook up."

"You're cut off from us, Bennett. Transport back to the ship!"

"Bastards actually blew a hole in their own ship to get at us," Leblanc said in awe.

"They are anything if not persistent," Dent said. A sudden hail of disrupter fire towards the Captain's location forced him to hunker against a wall, using some slim debris as cover. He glanced up as Leblanc returned fire and then yelled at the woman.

"Leblanc, look up!"

Overhead a male Zardanian crawled along the ceiling, grimacing down at the security officer. He released his handhold and dropped to the floor, spinning around expertly. His tail flashed out and struck Dent in the chest, knocking him against a wall and sending his rifle spinning away into the smoke. Leblanc turned and aimed her weapon but her action was too late; the Zardanian fired a weapon strapped to his wrist. Leblanc took the hit square in the chest, crying out as she fell to the floor, her force field dissipating. The Zardanian crouched, crawling over rubble and giggling low in its throat as it approached the helpless woman. Leblanc's eyes widened in fear as the Zardanian loomed over her, aiming its weapon square at her head. Leblanc squeezed her eyes shut and heard a crash above her. Rolling to her side, she risked a look around.

Dent had rushed at the lizard and crashed into its side, sending it tumbling across the hall. The Captain reached down and grabbed Leblanc's weapon. The Zardanian issued a stream of curses at the Captain, just as Dent swung his rifle like a bat and connected solidly with the lizard's head. Dazed, the Zardanian toppled backwards, tripping over the wreckage. Dent slapped his rifle into his shoulder and fired point blank. The Zardanian fell to the floor. Leblanc collapsed, her breath rushing out.

Dent moved over to her, "Are you all right, crewman?"

"I think so...my side hurts though."

"Dent to _Spector_. Transport crewman Leblanc to sickbay."

"No sir! I can still help!"

"You already did, Leblanc. Your job here is done," Dent squeezed her shoulder and smiled, "damn good work for your first boarding party." She vanished in a field of blue energy. Dent looked up and shouted across the hall, "Kwalski! I'm coming in!"

Dent jumped across the hall and fell into the auxiliary control room. Hansen stood over the console as Kwalski covered the entrance. Dent stalked over to the junior Science officer. "What the hell is taking so long?" he asked.

"Captain, they have some unusual algorithms and encryptions protecting their database. I'm having trouble downloading the data to my tricorder."

"Kwalski, inform Team Two to transport back to the ship. They are taking too much fire from the reinforcements from what I heard out there. Hansen, step away from the console," Dent levelled his weapon at the computer console and adjusted the rifle's setting, firing a short burst. The side of the console erupted in sparks and bits of metal. Dent reached in and moved his hand around, finally dragging out a crystalline box, wires and data cables streaming from it as he threw it to the floor.

"Is that the data core?"

"Um...yes sir."

"Then our job here is done. Dent to _Spector_, ready for transport."


	10. Episode Ten

**Chapter 10**

**Bridge**

"Transporter Room reports the strike teams have returned safely, Lt. Commander," Ensign Rodriguez said. He shifted in his seat as the _Spector_ shook a little. The twin Zardanian cruisers had reached weapons range and were opening fire.

"They've locked onto us with Plasma torpedoes, Venax," Haro said, hands working on his console.

"They are signalling us to stand down and surrender," Rodriguez added.

"I should think not," Venax replied from the command chair in the centre of the Bridge, "Helm, lay in a return course to the asteroid field. Mr. Haro, return fire with the aft phasers."

"Aye sir," Lieutenant Aureli replied.

"Helm, utilize the return course we have pre-programmed with the computer. Allow the computer to pilot the ship but make whatever adjustments you need on the fly. We should have a safe route plotted through the field and it is imperative we are as close to that path as possible. Allow no deviation."

The _Spector_ left the crippled mining vessel, banking into a tight turn and speeding towards the asteroid field, its shields flaring as the Zardanian ships continued to fire. Phasers lashed from its saucer section, impacting the lead ship. Both enemy vessels slowed but continued to pursue the Federation warship.

"The Zardanian ships are forming up. They are sharing their shields to lessen the effectiveness of our phasers."

Venax's eyebrow raised, "A clever tactic. Transfer auxiliary power to the aft shields and maintain course."

"How can we be sure the Zardanians will pursue us into the field?" Haro asked just as the turbolift doors opened. Captain Dent strode onto the Bridge, tossing his battle vest to a security officer and asking the man to stow it for him. Venax rose from the command chair and resumed her tactical station.

"Because Mr. Haro," Dent said, answering the Science officer's question, "if the Zardanians take the time to go around the field they'll lose us for sure. They expected us to head for the Frontier but here we are, attacking a mining vessel deep in their territory. Don't forget, they'll want revenge for their flagship as well. Those Captains aren't going to want to be the ones to report they let us go because space rocks slowed them down. Especially since their ships are smaller and more manoeuvrable than the _Spector_. They should be thinking it is desperation on our part to be flying into the field." Dent smirked a little to himself, "Rule number one of combat; give your enemy every opportunity to make a mistake."

"The course we have pre-programmed has taken into account the spatial drift of the asteroids. We should have no trouble passing through the Masor field."

"Just be careful Helm...some of those rocks probably have changed course and those Zardy ships are firing. Those blasts may miss us and hit them, changing their direction."

"Aye sir," Aureli said through gritted teeth. They flashed through the perimeter of the field, flying over a larger rock and down its side, altering course and flying deeper into the asteroids. The Zardanians increased their speed and pursued.

"Time, Venax?"

"Forty-six seconds at present speed."

"Aft view."

The viewscreen changed, showing the tips of the _Spector's_ nacelles and the drifting asteroids, along with the pursuing cruisers. Dent's eyes narrowed as he pondered their course. The second enemy ship fired its disrupter and the Akira shuddered from the impact. Ignoring this, Dent raised a tentative hand, his finders moving as though doing calculations on an invisible chalkboard. "The lead ship is off course. Venax, fire a torpedo into sector J8."

"Firing torpedo."

The torpedo erupted from the launch bay, lashing out into the underbelly of a medium sized chunk of rock. The asteroid suddenly changed course, soaring directly in front of the lead ship. Desperately it changed its heading, narrowly missing an impact.

"They are good," Aureli said.

"Time?" Dent asked again.

"Ten seconds. Nine...eight...seven...six..."

"Haro, send out the activation signal."

"Aye sir."

Haro worked his console, bringing up a coded sequence and sending it over a secure comm channel. Outside, quietly drifting along in the expansive asteroid field, several quantum torpedoes suddenly came to life, their arming sequences activated.

"The lead ship is directly on course with torpedo one. Impact in three...two...one..."

On the viewscreen an explosion could be seen on the nose of the lead ship. The ship shook from the impact and was forced to alter course, flying into the path of several more floating torpedoes. All along its hull more outbursts of fire could be seen, the shields flaring and then collapsing. The hull burst inwards from the detonations and the ship lost helm control, diving into an immense mass of ore. The vessel became a plume of flame as the second ship veered away, breaking off pursuit.

"The field interference has masked the torpedoes from their sensors as expected," Venax observed.

"Detonate torpedoes six, seven and eight."

Attached to several asteroids carefully planted charges were set off, projecting more asteroids into carefully planned directions. The second ship found itself surrounded by rocks as they impacted with each other and set off a chain of events that rapidly removed every avenue of escape. Frantic, the ship increased its speed and attempted to make its way through a rapidly narrowing gap in the field. Its wing section too wide, the ship was crushed between two of the largest asteroids. The warp core explosion lit up the area around them like a miniature sun.

"Helm," Dent said quietly, sitting back in his chair. He had been riding the edge of the seat through the whole ordeal, very much in danger of falling to the floor. "Take us out of the Masor Field. Lay in a course for the crippled mining vessel."

"Excellent work, Captain," Haro stated proudly.

"Just careful planning, Mr. Haro. The crew deserves your praise for getting the work done, not me."

"Sir, we are emerging from the perimeter."

"Right about now that mining ship is realizing its friends aren't going to be returning with their prize. Venax, target their communications array and fire. We might as well buy us some time to get the hell out of here."

The _Spector_ flew over the mining vessel, firing a quick shot and blowing a small hole into the top of its hull, the array now little more than twinkling fragments floating in space. Swerving away, the Akira went to warp.

"Heading, Captain?" Aureli asked.

"Set a course from the Galup sector. Head for the red giant located there. Maximum warp."

"Yes sir."

"Tell me Mr. Haro, how much do you and Mr. Lambs know about metaphasic shielding?" Captain Dent asked, smiling.


	11. Episode Eleven

**Episode Eleven**  
****

_****_

_**Defender of Zardan** _**Command Cruiser – Zardanian Border Fleet**

Admiral N'Gar T'Liu stared at the large tactical display in front of her; sensor scans from both her Border Patrol Fleet and the array of listening posts providing essentially useless information to her vision. Her eyes narrowed, her skin darkening in frustration. She looked at the display as though there was some hidden meaning within it, just beyond her senses.

"Where are you?" she muttered as another officer approached.

"Admiral, I bring some unfortunate news," the Captain said.

"Speak," T'Liu ordered, waving a hand nonchalantly, irritated by the interruption.

"One of our mining ships have been attacked by the Federation vessel near the Masor asteroid field," the Captain reported, bracing for a wave of anger from his superior. He found himself surprised by the Admiral's reaction.

"That would explain our inability to detect he ship," T'Liu said calmly, "it is not going to approach the border and our sensors are ineffectual within that field. Was the ship destroyed?"

"No, Admiral. However, there was a nearby patrol that engaged the Akira and pursued it into the field. They were...destroyed in the encounter. The Federation vessel had mined the field with active torpedoes."

"They chased the Federation warship into the asteroid field," T'Liu repeated carefully.

"Usually a mistake, but in this case one that is easily understood. With the invasion fleet poised at the Wayreth sector there are very few ships in the area to assist. Once the Akira escaped short-range sensors they would not be able to pursue it. As you know, the Federation ship has proven capable of masking its trail."

"Indeed. Their engineers can be quite clever. Was there anything missing from the mining ship?"

The Captain swallowed hard and said, "A auxiliary computer core."

"Then we must assume the Akira has full access to our fleet database, recent communications and task force movements...they should soon be able to access our subspace communications if they have not already done so."

"Yes sir. There is more..."

"I presume Supreme Fleet Commander T'Gar Ana'Wor has shared his dismay."

"Yes Admiral. He is demanding to know the reason why the Akira has not been destroyed."

T'Liu nodded. The Captain continued, "Captain A'nagar of the _Protector_ informed the Fleet Commander that it was his order for you to remain close to the Border. He reminded the Commander that it was you that requested cruisers be deployed closer to the interior and the Commander neglected to do so."

"A'nagar..." T'Liu said smiling.

"Supreme Fleet Commander Ana'Wor was most displeased with this assessment," the Captain said.

"I imagine he would be. Ana'Wor does not like his mistakes pointed out for him."

"If I may be so bold Admiral, Ana'Wor is setting you up to take the blame for this...situation. He has already voiced his displeasure with your actions of late and implied the fiasco with the diplomatic envoy was your doing. He is... 'passing the buck' as the humans say."

"He needs a scapegoat, Captain."

"Indeed. His orders are for you to continue to secure the Border."

T'Liu keyed a command into the display before her, brining up the Masor sector of space and gradually expanded it to the outer sectors as well. She studied them closely, eyeing the shipping lanes and present ships in that area.

"Captain," she said, never taking her eyes off the display, "assemble the Border fleet and prepare to depart the Frontier."

"The _entire_ Fleet, Admiral?"

"Leave a few scout ships, enough to patrol this area of the Border. The Listening Posts can do the rest. Have the fleet arranged in a standard sensor web formation."

"Admiral, the Fleet Commander's orders were quite clear..."

"Yes. Secure the Border. The scout ships will be doing just that."

"But sir..."

"Captain, whoever is commanding that Federation ship is not going to come anywhere near the Frontier. He took that database for a reason and it is certainly not to find a means of escape."

"Sir?"

"He is a devil, this one," T'Liu said quietly, almost to herself, "he is not going to run. He is going to fight."

**USS Spector**

Captain Dent entered the briefing room, putting a datapad on the desk in front of him and looked over the assembled officers, the nearby red giant bathing them all in an eerie red glow. Lambs and Haro met his gaze with pleased looks while Venax nodded to the Captain.

"Report," Dent said.

"Metaphasic shielding is holding, sir. I suspect we can remain here for another twenty hours. Their sensors won't find us this close to the star."

As Lambs finished Venax added, "Sensor probes have been released, Captain. The dampening fields we added to them should hide them effectively from any patrols for the next little while. They are laying down false warp trails and providing us additional information about their lines of transportation."

"We broke the Zardanian encryptions and now have access to their subspace communications," Haro said excitedly, "We managed to glean their recent fleet movements. Have a look."

Haro moved over to map of the area and brought up the information they had gathered, "The Zardanians have three major fleets. First is their Home Guard, dedicated to protecting the planet Zardan and its system. Second is the Border Patrol, a large assemblage of ships stationed in their Frontier. The Third is a massive build up of vessels in the Wayreth sector. I presume this is their future invasion fleet. There are other vessels but nothing to account for numbers wise. Almost all of them have been moved to their invasion fleet."

"Good work."

"Also, the subspace communications we have intercepted so far are extremely upset over your recent actions, Captain," Haro said happily.

"More to come," Dent said.

"Another raid, Captain? There is a small number of scout vessels in the area," Haro replied.

"I have something larger in mind, Mr. Haro. As I understand there is another mining station nearby, correct?'

"Yes, sir."

"From the database I understand there will be a cargo ship passing close to us to pick up some refined material. From there it will pick up its escort and head for Zardan home territory. I think we should be on that ship."

"Sir?"

"I plan on visiting the Markala VII Shipyards," Dent said flatly.

The three officers were silent for a long moment. Finally Lambs said, "Captain, isn't that the Zardanian main shipyard? One of the largest shipyards known by any standard we have?"

"Yes. And I am going to blow it up," Dent said, smiling wolfishly.


	12. Episode Twelve

**Episode 12**

**USS Spector**

**Briefing Room**

"The Markala VII Shipyards is one of the largest known, despite the relatively small size of the Zardanian Colonial Empire. They may be inferior in technology to the major races in the quadrant but they can generate a massive fleet within a short amount of time. Additionally, every ship they construct falls into their military jurisdiction, be it cruiser, transport or cargo carrier. It is heavily guarded with its own defence grid and entourage of patrol vessels."

"This is sounding more and more like a suicide mission," Chief Engineer Lambs said to Captain Dent.

"It is dangerous, Mr. Lambs, but it has the benefit of surprise."

"That's for sure. The Zardanians would not expect one Federation vessel to fly into the heart of their territory and attack their main dockyard."

"We won't be taking the _Spector_ anywhere near Markala VII," Dent said smiling grimly, "I plan on hijacking a small cargo vessel passing nearby." Dent worked a console as the display next to him changed to a schematic of a Zardanian ship, along with its projected course. "As you can see the ZCS P118 will cross through here at 1800 hours tomorrow. At this time Lt. Commander Venax and I will pilot a shuttlecraft, match its warp signature and transport aboard after taking the crew out. Then we'll rendezvous at the mining facility, retrieve the shipment and proceed to the shipyard."

"Hell, that's simple!" Lambs shouted sarcastically, throwing up his arms. Dent continued.

"The Zardanians are highly regimented into a class structure. Their higher ranks never mingle with lower ones, so other than brief communications between ships and the mining facility, we should not meet face to face. It will be easy enough to mask our appearance with visual communications. The cargo ship has only a crew of five, the shipping procedure entirely automated."

"Zardanians abhor mundane physical activity," Venax reported, "they have perfected many such autonomous methods"

"You agree with all of this, Venax?" Lambs asked.

"I do. If we are truly to follow our orders of stymieing the Zardanian advance, then we must strike a critical blow."

"What we need from you, Lambs, is a means of masking our presence once we are off the ship and hiding the shuttlecraft from their sensors."

"All right, if you really plan on doing this, then I have a few ideas. But Captain, exactly how do you plan on taking out the shipyard?"

"What we also need from you and Mr. Haro is a container of Muon particles. Once we are on board the facility, I plan on injecting the particles directly into one of the nearly completed ships."

Science Officer Haro nodded in understanding, "Brilliant. From what I have read the Zardanians use the shipyard's power cores to feed warp power directly into their docked vessels as a means to 'jumpstart' them once they are finished. If we introduce enough Muon particles into that stream of energy, it will create a cascade effect within the shipyard power distribution system. After a short time, the resulting explosion will be enormous, and Muons are notoriously difficult to detect unless they are actively being scanned for. Starfleet lost a series of vessels due to Muon infestation, and our scanning regiments are more thorough then Zardanian."

"If everything goes as planned, this should go like clockwork. Mr. Lambs, you will be in command until we return. Once we depart hide the _Spector_ within this system's eighth planet's ice ring. We'll meet with you there. You have your orders everyone, carry them out."

The officers rose from their chairs and filed out. As Venax passed the Captain he leaned over and said, "Tomorrow will be a busy day, Commander. Get some rest."

"Yes sir. However I should point out that as Captain, you should not be leading this mission."

"Captain's prerogative," he replied.

**Shuttle Bay**

Captain Dent entered the shuttle bay the next morning, walking towards the refitted shuttlecraft. A succession of cylindrical objects had been attached to the hull, the welds still cooling. Dent raised an eyebrow at the tired Chief Engineer.

"We've attached a series of sensor dampeners to the outer hull, Captain. They should hide you effectively enough. Its as close to a cloaking device as we could get on such short notice."

"Excellent work, Mr. Lambs."

"Venax is already aboard with the Muon container. She'll brief you on how to inject it as well."

"You look tired, Chief. Get some rest once the _Spector_ is safely put away. You've done outstanding work the last few days and you deserve a break."

"Yes sir. Just be...just be careful out there, huh?"

"I will," the Captain said. He reached out a hand, looking the Chief in the eye. After a brief pause Lambs shrugged and took the Captain's hand, shaking it firmly.

"You are alright, Captain Dent. But bring my shuttle back in one piece, ok?"

Dent laughed mildly, "I'll try my best, Jeffery." He turned and entered the shuttle, closing the door behind him. "Venax, take us out."

The shuttlecraft lifted off the plated floor, sliding gracefully past the energy field that marked the perimeter into open space, then made a half circle and crossed over the saucer section. Dent looked down and observed the scar-like damage across the top of the saucer. He shook his head in wonder.

"I always wondered why they put the bridges right on top of the ship like that. You might as well mark it with a bullseye. If I ever get a job at Utopia Planitia I'm going to put the bridge right in the middle of the ship."

"That would be the most logical place, Captain."

The shuttlecraft sped off as the _Spector_ made its way to the nearby ice rings of the eight planet. Dent settled back into his chair as Venax piloted the craft.

"You get any rest Venax?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now all we have to do is plan on how we can get aboard the shipyard without arousing suspicion."

"Mr. Lambs came up with a novel solution, Captain," Venax said. She switched the shuttlecraft to autopilot after activating the sensor dampeners. She moved to the back of the small ship and removed a vest from one of the containers located there. Scattered throughout the vest was a series of small devices.

"Those look like holo-emitters."

"Correct. Mr. Lambs and his staff created this device. They call it the holo-jacket. These emitters are programmed to create the image of a Zardanian crewman. Observe." Venax strapped the vest on and activated the devices; the image of a lizard-like Zardanian crewman overlapped her body. She moved about the cabin, the illusion flawless to Dent's eyes.

"Amazing!" he proclaimed.

"Indeed," Venax said. Her voice came out guttural and hissing, obviously augmented by the device she wore, "the suit alters my speech patterns and emits life signs similar to that of a Zardanian female."

Dent shook his head in wonder, "He thought of everything."

"The suit only has enough power for forty-five minutes and has not been adequately tested, of course. There is another problem as well. The engineers were only able to develop the one suit in time, and because of my smaller frame it will envelop me with the hologram with less difficulty."

Dent frowned, "I guess you are elected then. I'll monitor your status from the ship and transport you out at the first sign of trouble."

Venax switched off the holo-emitters and removed the vest, "It should be a simple matter. The Zardanians are not known for their security."

Dent swung his chair around and checked the helm readouts, "We should intercept the cargo ship on two hours. Let's go over the plan again."

Shuttlecraft 

**Two Hours Later**

"We are approaching the cargo vessel, Captain. No sign of detection."

"I'm matching our warp signature to theirs, Venax. That should allow us to pass through their navigational deflectors. Ready the concussive charges."

"Aye sir. Concussive charges ready for transport." The shuttle gave a brief shake as it passed through the cargo ship's shields. "Sensors detect five crewman located on the bridge. Transporting charges."

"Won't they be surprised," Dent said, a small smile on his face.

"Charges activated. They are unconscious, sir."

"Good. Set the autopilot to shut down the shuttlecraft once we transport. If we are lucky it won't be detected until we return."

"Already plotted into the computer, Captain."

"Care to join me on the Zardanian ship, Commander?"

The two officers stepped to the back of the shuttlecraft and gathered their gear. Dent activated the transporter after putting on his protective goggles, their environment changing from the familiar Federation to blue energy to the preferred brown interior of the Zardanian military. Bright light and intense heat was the first thing Dent noticed.

"Gah – I had forgotten how hot the Zardanians ships are."

"I find it rather comfortable," Venax replied.

"Lucky for you your Vulcan eyes protect you from this light."

"Indeed. We should make no adjustments to the environmental settings. That may show up on sensors."

"I'll manage," Dent said, removing his uniform jacket, "check our heading Venax. These consoles are the same as what was depicted in the database we retrieved. We should have no trouble flying this ship."

"One moment, Captain." Venax leaned over one of the Zardanians, her hand outstretched.

"Are you sure about this, Commander? I realize Vulcans dislike such contact with other races."

"Zardanians have little resistance to telepathic probes. That could be another reason for their heightened aggression against other races in the Federation. The passcodes we require should be on the surface of his memories." Her fingers barely touched the brow of the lizard, "Yes...yes...I see them. Floating in his mind, just out of reach. I...have...them." Venax stood up and walked over to the helm, adjusting the heading slightly. "I have the required security clearance codes for the mining facility and shipyards."

"Are you all right?"

Venax turned and nodded firmly, "Yes, Captain. Thank you for your concern. It was not difficult to retrieve the information from his mind."

"You're...ok with this?"

"Yes sir. It was...distasteful but I cannot forget the crimes these people committed against the Federation envoy. I fear some rules must be bent if we are to achieve our mission."

"Very well. I apologize for what you had to go through but I'm afraid desperate times call for desperate measures. I'll input the programs into their communication array and stow our gear. We'll place these crewmen in the transporter buffer for now."

"Once we reach the mining facility the onboard apparatus will assume control of the cargo retrieval. There will be little we have to do but wait. Our escort will escort us to the Zardanian core but will communicate with us only as necessary. They have little patience for cargo runners. They think themselves superior to such mundane duties."

"Here is to hoping you are correct, Venax."


End file.
